The Birthday Series – The Collector (2009)
This is probably the single dumbest idea I’ve come up with yet. My birthday is due to roll around on August 2nd and against all sense and reason I have decided to do a review series based around that date. Essentially, counting backwards, I will review a film from every year I have graced this ball of mud with my presence. The criteria is simple. The film has to have been released on, or as close to August 2nd as possible. I have to choose the closest to that date, no matter if I loathe the film or not. Luckily for me, there is usually more than one viable option. And lets all bow before the Flying Spaghetti Monster for that, because I have managed to avoid the staggeringly awful ‘Spawn’ in 1997. Phew! But I have not always been lucky. There are more than a few absolute dogs in this series. And we just need look no further than…
Fuck this movie. What a lousy way to start a review series. ‘The Collector’ is a unrelenting test of a persons will to sit through ninety minutes of stupefyingly pointless unpleasantness. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew I had to review this fucking garbage, I’d have lowered my finger of doom (which hovered about three millimetres away from the stop button for 89 minutes).
Puff puff pass you a-hole!
There is no fucking plot, so I’ll describe the brief set up. Arkin (Josh Stewart) is a labourer working on a well to do families house. He’s in need of some quick cash because his bitch of a wife has unexplained debts to bookies and must pay by midnight. Luckily Arkin is also a safe cracker and in cahoots with some thug he met in prison. He’s been “casing the family for months”, because they have some rare, valuable rock stashed away in the safe. Because of the imminent deadline, he pushes the thug to do the job that night, so he can get paid straight away. Arkin breaks in to the home, as the family has left on a “family vacation”, but wouldn’t you know it, when he gets in he finds the whole house is booby trapped and Mum and Dad are being hacked apart in the basement by some cretin that I think is supposed to look like a bug or something. I make the connection because of the seemingly thousands of lingering shots on various icky spiders, cockroaches and wasps. Arkin can’t get out because all the exits are booby trapped and he has to navigate his way around the house without being detected (which he does with ridiculous ease), and try to save the family, as well as himself.
I wonder how many God of War boobies I can fondle before Mrs Jarv gets home?
To put it bluntly, I fucking loathed this movie. This is the type of shit I usually avoid like AIDS. It comes as no surprise to find that ‘The Collector’ was originally intended as a prequel to ‘Saw’. Yeah, like we really need that. After I’d resigned myself to the fact that I had to watch this, I decided to give it a chance. It literally took the opening credits to shit me off. It’s nauseatingly edited and features loud thumping doof doof music of the kind you’d get subjected to if Pantera decided to branch into doof doof. It’s hideously ugly to look at. It’s purposefully grimy and it’s shot like a really crap music video which just adds to the unpleasantness.
C’mon lady! It’ll only hurt for a second!
The writing in this film is utter shit. This is torture porn at it’s worst. It’s literally all a set up so that the talentless dickheads who made the film can sustain sixty plus minutes of punishing it’s characters. There is never any explanation of who the guy in the mask is. There’s some horseshit yelled by a character that he “collects people”, but what the fuck does that even mean? All I see is that he sticks some bloke in a red box and moves onto another family. That’s not really collecting people. That’s borrowing them for a short time while he subjects them to grotesque agony. And it has the gall to stage one of those insulting “bad guy wins” sequel baiting endings that do nothing but piss you off even more. Thank fuck this bombed.
Do you want this to be Marcus Dunstan or Don Murphy? Both viable choices.
The acting is absolute shit as well. There is no one even remotely recognisable, and I can’t see that changing judging by these performances. The music is of the off the shelf insta-horror variety. The only real thing going for this film is the all too brief unleashing of some semi-decent cans. But even then Marcus Dunstan, the so called director of this film and someone I’m going to recommend team up with Murphy so they can hold hands while they sink into obscurity and eventually die of a heart attack all alone on the toilet of their Motel 6 hotel room…. Hang on, where was I? Right. Juggs. Dunstan doesn’t even frame the shot to take advantage of these half-decent sweater puppies. Yes, she’s laying on her back so I’ll position the camera from below looking directly at her head. Nice job, twat. Your automatic one chang rating is hereby rescinded.
There goes your one chang, you cunt!
So, with ‘The Collector’ my birthday series gets off to an absolutely cracking start.
Thanks for coming to my 2009 birthday. Now bugger off the lot of you so I can bust open the black label and stare at the wall while I drink myself into stupor while I wallow in my self-pity.